Bound by Darkness, Freed by Light — Book II: No Light, No Light
by Draic Kin of the Balance
Summary: Sequel to War. Alan has finally escaped the Dark Place, but he quickly finds nothing is the same. The epic war between the forces of Light and Dark rages on as the world becomes a battlefield and Bright Falls a war zone. Tears aren't the only thing going to be shed.
1. The Great Escape

**No Light, No Light**

**By Draic Kin of the Balance**

* * *

"_Through the crowds I was crying out and_

_In your place there were a thousand other faces_

_I was disappearing in plain sight_

_Heaven help me, I need to make it right_

_You want a revelation, you wanna get right_

_But, it's a conversation, I just can't have tonight_

_You want a revelation, some kind of resolution_

_You want a revelation_

_No light, no light in your bright blue eyes_

_I never knew daylight could be so violent_

_A revelation in the light of day_

_You can't choose what stays and what fades away_

_And I'd do anything to make you stay_

_No light, no light, no light, tell me what you want me to say_

_Would you leave me if I told you what I've done?_

_And would you leave me if I told you what I've become?_

_Because it's so easy to sing it to a crowd_

_But it's so hard, my love, to say it to you out loud_

_No light, no light in your bright blue eyes_

_I never knew daylight could be so violent_

_A revelation in the light of day_

_You can't choose what stays and what fades away_

_And I'd do anything to make you stay_

_No light, no light, no light, tell me what you want me to say_

_You want a revelation, you wanna get right_

_But it's a conversation I just can't have tonight_

_You want a revelation, some kind of resolution_

_You want a revelation_

_You want a revelation, you wanna get right_

_But it's a conversation I just can't have tonight_

_You want a revelation, some kind of resolution_

_Tell me what you want me to say._" –Florence + The Machine, _No Light, No Light_

* * *

Darkness surrounded him, still, but he knew he was free. Free from the Dark Place in the depths of Cauldron Lake's black waters. Alan Wake slowly made his way up to the surface. The taste of oxygen was sweet in his mouth as it filled his lungs. The air was bitterly cold as he swam to the pier, his body trembling. He collapsed, coughing and heaving violently. He could feel his body going into shock from the transition from the Dark Place to reality. The writer looked up towards the sky; it was the dead of night. Black clouds blotted out the moonlight, and a deafening roar pierced the air, a tremor shaking the ground. _The Dark Presence, _he thought grimly to himself. Scratch hadn't been lying to him when he'd said it was back. He shook his head and slowly rose to himself, shaking violently from the cold. He had to find some shelter and find a phone so he could contact Barry and Alice, let them know he was okay. Alice would return to Bright Falls, he knew, and he didn't want to put her in the crossfire. The Dark Presence had gotten to her once, and he didn't want that to happen again. He yearned for her presence, but he knew he couldn't be with her. Not now. Bringing her back to Bright Falls now would be selfish.

Alan struggled to rise to his feet, only to fall back down again. He could feel the Dark Presence in the atmosphere, and a cold feeling settled itself in the pit of his stomach. He knew he was vulnerable, both physically, mentally and emotionally. His time in the Dark Place had been grueling and terrifying; when he wasn't fighting for his life, he was battling for his sanity. The Dark Place was merciless and hostile to human life, and he didn't even want to consider what it'd done to Alice. She had an intense fear of the dark. Before, he had failed to understand why she feared the darkness but now, he understood. The darkness was an entity, something you could touch and feel, and you couldn't always protect yourself from it. You were never truly safe from darkness. And now, the Dark Presence was once again at large. The writer slowly rose to his feet. Despite everything, despite his trauma from being imprisoned in the Dark Place for so long, he forged onwards into the heart of the night.

* * *

When he reached town, Alan was unsettled to find it empty. Bloody, mangled bodies were scattered about, cars abandoned, others crashed and aflame. If there were survivors, there was no sign of them. He made his way into the general store. It was almost as if it were out of a scene from a dystopian blockbuster. The store was a mess, windows shattered. There was a trail of blood on the floor; he didn't even want to consider where it led to or what'd happened to the victim. He found a black hoodie resting on the cash register, and he took off his wet shirt and donned the hoodie before reaching for the phone. He found himself dialing Alice's cell phone number; he just wanted to hear her voice again. For too long, they'd been separated, torn apart by the forces of darkness. It'd been his love for her that had driven him to find a way out of the dark prison beneath Cauldron Lake. After the second ring, there was an answer.

"Hello?" Alice's voice reverberated through the line, and Alan closed his eyes, fighting back the burn of tears. "Who is this?" He remained silent, torn. She would come back to Bright Falls for him, but it was too dangerous for her. Their visit to the town had turned into a waking nightmare and reignited the eternal war between Light and Dark, and he'd come too close to losing her. He couldn't do that again. Reluctantly, he cut the connection before dialing Barry Wheeler. Barry knew about the Dark Presence, as did Sheriff Sarah Breaker. He was the only one who could help him.


	2. United We Stand

Dean Winchester was a man of many things: war, faith, righteousness and truth. He was not a believer in destiny, but as he watched Cynthia Weaver depart, taking a deranged Rose Marigold with her, he found himself pondering Thomas Zane's reasons for bringing him and his brother here to Bright Falls. Why them? Sam was suffering from the trials; his life was on the line, and they'd yet to learn what the final trial was so they could end it all and close Hell's gates forever. Bright Falls—no, the world—was at the Dark Presence's mercy, and they didn't know how to stop it. It made their mission to rid the world of demons seem inconsequential. So much more was at stake. The world was at its knees, thousands if not millions of lives lost, and Bright Falls was in the heart of the storm.

He was snapped out of his reverie when his cell phone went off. Looking at the caller ID, he was surprised to find that it was— "Garth?"

"Dean, what the fuck is going on?" he shouted. On the other line, there was mere chaos. Dean didn't want to imagine what was happening on Garth's end.

"Garth, it's a dark presence. You need light—it's the only way to fight it!" Dean responded. "Dammit." He turned his back to Sam, Sheriff Sarah Breaker and Barry Wheeler, unaware of the concerned expressions on their faces. "Garth, do you know if…if Charlie's okay?"

"She's with me, Dean," Garth yelled over the pandemonium. "Look, Dean, I really need to—_shit_!" The line went dead, and Dean pocketed his phone. He couldn't bring himself to look at the others. He'd known how bad things were out there, but despite his relief knowing his friends were okay, he'd heard it all in the background. The screams, the explosions, the incoherent ramblings of the Taken. People were dying all around him, and he felt helpless to do anything about it. He ran a hand over his mouth and closed his eyes, trying to get a hold of his emotions.

"Dean…Dean what is it?" Sam asked.

"It was Garth," the elder Winchester began slowly. "Charlie's with him and they're okay, but it's bad out there. Really bad." He shook his head, and turned around. A cell phone started ringing, and Barry whipped out his phone. "Who is it?"

"I don't know," answered Barry. "Hold on." He pressed _answer_. "Hello? Who is this?" He paused for a moment. "No, no, no. You've got to be bullshitting me. There is no fucking way—this is just…don't!" Silence. "Fine, we'll meet you there. Bye."

"Who was that?" asked Sarah. "Barry, what is it?"

"It was…Al," he said, "at least I think it was." Dean exchanged a glance with Sam. They were both thinking the same thing; it wasn't really Alan. It had to be Mr. Scratch. Alan was gone, trapped in the Dark Place beneath Cauldron Lake. In the end, it was just bullshit. It had to be, unless he'd managed to escape. _There's a small chance it is actually Alan, _he thought. _We're dealing with something much bigger than the Apocalypse here. _He and his brother had barely managed to end the Apocalypse, and it'd come with a terrible cost: Sam's life. Less than an hour ago, Sam had been butchered to death by Scratch and resurrected by Zane, the Light Presence.

_Your brother's death…it was never supposed to happen. That's not how the story goes_, he had said. Dean didn't know the meaning behind his cryptic words, and he was almost afraid to find out. He and Sam had come to Bright Falls on a case, to investigate the disappearances and subsequent bludgeoning of some of the townspeople, and now they were in the middle of an ancient war. The Dark Presence had risen, Scratch was terrorizing the town and god knew what else, and now Alan was allegedly back after being missing for a year. There was no turning back.

"It just might've been Alan," said Dean slowly, "but chances are, it's Scratch."

"I'm not so sure, Dean," Barry countered. "I realize it may be a trap, but it's_ Al _we're talking about here. Sarah, what do you think?"

"I want to believe it's really him, I do," she began, "but it's risky. Are you sure you want to take that risk, Barry?"

"It's gotta be him, Sarah," he countered. "Please, guys."

"Barry," Sam said, "Mr. Scratch _killed _me when I went to the Majestic to get Dean. If we're meeting up with this guy, we should come prepared for the worst."

"Sam—" Dean began.

"What, Dean?" his younger brother retorted. "Look, I know you're worried about Mr. Scratch—I don't blame you—but I'm with Barry on this one. Sure, it's risky but we could really use the help. This is not a democracy. Let's go." Barry and Sarah nodded in acknowledgement and made their leave. Dean strode over to Sam and pulled him aside.

"Sam, are you out of your goddamned mind?" he demanded. "Are you trying to get us all killed? You know what happened the last time you fucked with this guy! You died!"

"Dean, if there's a chance this might actually be Alan—"

"Dude, I said no," Dean said firmly. "He killed you right in front of me. I'm not going through that again."

"I'm sorry, but we're meeting him. We're coming prepared." Sam turned away from his brother, ending the conversation. Dean just hoped he was right about this. Their first happenstance with Scratch had ended bloody. If they were dealing with the bastard again, there was not a doubt in his mind blood would be spilt. He just prayed Sam wouldn't have to pay the price again.

* * *

The drive into the town was tense and silent. Sam glanced back towards Barry and Sarah, who sat in the back of the Impala. Not a word had been exchanged since they'd hit the road. Dean's worry and anger was radiating off him in waves. _I guess when I died, he just…broke, _he thought to himself. He couldn't help but recall Cold Oak; it'd been years ago, but he could remember it vividly. Azazel's plan to choose one of out all his "Special Children" to lead his army, the blood that had been spilled, the fiery pain of Jake's knife in his back, seeing the anguish in his brother's eyes before he blacked out. He remembered everything. This was much bigger than almost anything they'd gone up against: good, evil, angels, devils, destiny, even God himself. They'd been in Bright Falls for less than a week and all hell was breaking loose. For a moment, he wondered if the forces of Heaven and Hell were partaking in the conflict.

"We're here," said Dean, interrupting his thoughts. The Impala came to a stop, and everyone climbed out of the vehicle, weapons at the ready.

"Don't shoot unless he attacks first," Sarah reminded him. There was a gleam of hope and fear in her eyes. Hope that Alan was truly back, fear that they were dealing with the enemy once again. Barry remained quiet.

Shadows stirred, and Dean raised his magnum, his finger on the trigger. "Who's there?" he demanded. A man stepped out of the shadows. He looked as if he'd been through hell; dark circles were under his eyes, he was bruised and battered, and he was struggling to stay on his feet.

"…Sarah?" he said in awe. "Barry?" Sam and Dean shared a glance. _Alan? _Were they dealing with Alan Wake, or was Mr. Scratch bullshitting them into a trap? The younger Winchester shook his head slowly, and Dean got the message. _Do not shoot. Not yet. This might actually be Alan. _"Who the hell are these guys?"

"We're the one with the questions," said Sam firmly. "Are you Alan Wake, or the douchebag that looks like him?"

"You met him, too?" he asked, shocked. He raised his hands in surrender upon seeing the guns fixed upon him.

"Answer the fucking question," Dean snapped. "We don't have all day."

"It's me!"

"Prove it," Sarah interjected. In her tone, there was no sign of the doubts he knew were running through her mind.

"You and Barry helped me fight the Dark Presence," he said. "I was brought into the sheriff station after I called you from Stucky's gas station."

"Alan?" she said quietly, and she lowered her gun, and nodded to the others, prompting them to do the same.

"It's good to see you too, Sheriff," Alan said, managing a small smile. Barry pulled him into a hug. After a few moments, they pulled apart.

"Jesus Christ, I'm glad to see you," Barry exclaimed. "I knew you weren't dead."

"We're glad to have you back," said Sarah, "but I'm afraid we're going to have to catch up later. Alan—"

"Are you going to tell me who the hell these guys are?" he demanded, gesturing towards Sam and Dean.

"Dean Winchester," interposed Dean. Nodding towards his brother, he added, "This is my brother Sam."

"What the hell is going on?" Alan repeated.

"Long story short: the Dark Presence has reared its ugly head again and all hell has broken loose," Dean said shortly. "And by the way, that doppelganger of yours is one of the biggest dicks I've met in my life."

"Did he do something to you?" the writer pressed. Dean snorted in bitter anger.

"The douchebag tied me up, gagged me, injected me with snake venom, and killed my brother right in front of me—what the fuck do you think?"

"Oh my god. I'm sorry," said Alan. "Look, Dean—"

"I really don't give a shit what you have to say to me right now," Dean snapped. "Do you even know how bad things are right now?"

"Look," he said angrily, "I'm missing an entire year! I was trapped in a living hell, fighting for my life and my sanity, so please feel free to fill me in!" He was shouting now. Sam couldn't help but stare at him; Dean too had been much like Alan as he was now upon his return from Purgatory. Angry, disoriented, confused. He'd struggled to get his bearings, as it'd taken him a few months before he was completely back on his feet again. Even now, he could sense that his brother's emotional armor was beginning to crack. Whether or not it was all of the guilt and anger and sorrow he had buried deep inside from the past eight years or his death at Mr. Scratch's hand, he wasn't sure but he felt it was a combination of the two. Dean was supposed to be strong for him, being the big brother, but he knew he was nearing his breaking point. If anything, all Sam wanted for him was to be free of the burden of all the responsibilities weighing down on him and just to be okay. What happened afterwards, he couldn't say.

"Dean, cool your jets, okay?" Barry spoke up, interrupting Sam's reverie. "Jesus. No need to get all pissy. Al, when we say it's bad out there, it's _bad._ It's scaring the shit out of me just thinking how bad it might get here."

"With my double running rampant, I don't see how much worse this can get," Alan admitted. "I thought I'd gotten rid of him for good."

"Next time you gank someone, make sure you finish the job," Dean remarked sourly.

"Don't be such an ass, Winchester," Sarah rebuked him. "Alan, the Dark Presence…this isn't like when we went up against it last year."

"What do you mean?" he asked slowly. He was dreading what she would tell him; Sam didn't blame him at all. Sarah remained silent, unable to bring herself to say the words. She still refused to believe it herself. A few moments passed, and Alan swore aloud, the pieces coming together. "God_dammit_!"

"You're the only one that can help us finish this," Sam told him. "I know it's a longshot, but do you have the Clicker on you?"

"The Clicker?" Something flickered in the writer's eyes. Intuition. "How do…how do you know about that?"

"Barry and Sarah filled us in," he answered. "Alan, if you have it—"

"I don't, Sam," said Alan. "I must have lost it in the Dark Place. Look, this isn't the first time the Dark Presence has surfaced. I can't exactly write the Clicker back into existence."

"And why the hell not?" Dean demanded.

"The laws of creation aren't that simple, Dean," he explained. "Rewriting reality is risky in itself if you don't know what you're doing. Thomas Zane learned as much when he tried bringing back Barbara Jagger, as did I when the Dark Presence manipulated me into writing a horror story for its freedom in exchange for my wife. It was dangerous enough writing myself a way out of the Dark Place."

"Isn't there any way at all we can get rid of the Dark Presence for good?" Sam questioned. "The Clicker, it seems, wasn't enough."

"Not that I know of, no," he went on, shaking his head. "When I was down there, I learned that this town isn't the only place where reality can be influenced by the Dark Place. Reality is pretty fragile right now—too fragile. Writing the Clicker back into existence would be a risky move."

"The Dark Presence is bringing the world to its knees, Mr. Stephen King," Dean reminded him. "We need to do something. People are dying."

"The Andersons might be able to help us," Alan suggested. "They went up against this thing too, back in the 70s."

"Balance slays the demon, right?" Barry agreed.


	3. Balance Slays the Demon

Alan knew it was a long shot, going to the Andersons—Tor and Odin of the rock band Old Gods of Asgard—but there was nobody else to turn to. Zane was warring the Dark Presence, and Cynthia Weaver was missing in action. He was wary of Sam and Dean, despite Sarah's clear and seemingly unwavering trust in them. He understood Dean's anger and hostility towards him, but at the same time, he felt he couldn't trust him. Whether or not it was the negative vibe he was getting from him or something else, he wasn't sure. The man had good intentions, as did his brother Sam, he didn't doubt that. There was something definitely sketchy about both of the brothers.

"Who are these guys, anyway?" Sam asked him, interrupting his train of thought. "These Andersons you mentioned earlier?"

"Tor and Odin? They're part of a rock band. Old Gods of Asgard," Alan explained. He paused, and gestured towards Dean, who was engaged in what appeared to be a heated discussion with Barry and Sarah. "What the hell is up with your brother, anyway? I get that he's angry because my double…killed you…" He let his words drift. _I don't know who I'm fucking with. Sure, he has good intentions, but I just don't trust him. _He shook his head. "Forget I said anything, Sam. Dean, Sarah, Barry, you ready to go?"

"Wait, go where?" Dean demanded. "Do you even know where these Andersons are?"

"I have an idea, yes," he answered. "They have a farm near Cauldron Lake. After the Dark Presence attacked the lodge last year, they escaped. I don't think they have anywhere else to go now, to be honest."

"Hey, dude, it's not like they can go on tour right now," Barry spoke up. "This town has become a warzone. If anything, they're probably still here, hiding out on the farm or something."

"You said they went up against the darkness before?" Sarah asked. He nodded. "I think it's worth a shot."

"Sounds good to me," agreed Sam. "We should get moving before it gets too bad out there." Dean nodded in accord, and the group departed, leaving the haven of the power plant behind them.

* * *

Dean stole a glance towards his brother. He knew the war against the Dark Presence was taking its toll on Sam, as well as the after-effects of the trials. The three trials to close Hell's gates for good. Scratch had killed him merely hours ago, but it'd been Zane who'd resuscitated him. It was as if his death had slowed the illness the tests had induced in him. _There is no way Zane could have just completely healed him with his light mojo. Bringing him back is one thing, but healing him of whatever the hell it is these trials are doing to him is another matter entirely. _The trials had been created by God, and Zane was no god. His power couldn't match that of Him; nothing could. Not even the Dark Presence. Sam had completed the first two of the trials; they just needed to find what the third and final one was, and it would be over. Demons would no longer roam the earth, and the war between Heaven and Hell, angels and demons, would be over. It would all be over. Now, it seemed as if both realms' forces were AWOL now that the Dark Presence was at large. Garth and Charlie, he had absolutely no way of knowing if they were still alive. Kevin was missing in action, and for all he knew, Crowley had gotten to him or he'd been killed by a Taken. Nothing was certain now, and already hope's spark seemed to be extinguished.

"Guys, we're here," Alan said, interrupting Dean's reverie. The farm was dead, deserted. The door hung open, inviting the group inside. There were no signs of life, of civilization, save for the muffled music coming from the inside.

"The place hasn't changed much since we were here last, Al," commented Barry. "You think they're in there?"

"Maybe," responded Alan. "Come on, let's go." The group cautiously stepped inside, guns at the ready.

"Hello?" called Sarah. "Anyone here?" Silence. There was no sound in the house except for the blaringly loud rock music coming from one of the rooms. The windows were covered in smeared blood, leading to a trail that led into another room.

"Oh, shit," Dean muttered, shining his flashlight on the blood trail. "Guys, I think the Dark Presence—or some of the Taken—paid this place a visit." He followed the traces of blood into the living room. The room was a mess; it looked like someone had trashed the place. The couch was overturned, papers scattered about. The framed photos on the wall were smashed, shards of broken glass strewn about the room, and the bookshelf knocked over. There were no signs of the Andersons. On the floor, a record was spinning on its player. The music. The song's lyrics filled the room with a sense of confusion, and then wonder.

_Deep within the ocean of darkness, in the mirror of light, _

_Balance becomes a stranger, _

_And in your fantasies he rides a storm on your peace, _

_Then wake up and smell the danger, _

_Even the light cast a shadow, _

_Even the night springs from the light, _

_In the end, it's never just the light you need, _

_When balance slays the demon, you'll find peace, _

_In the end, it's never just the dark you seek, _

_When balance slays the demon, you'll find peace _

Dean heard Sam, Alan, Sarah and Barry enter the room, and he turned to them. "No sign of them," he reported.

"We can't search the town for these guys," Sarah said. "There's too much at stake here." Alan knelt down, touching the bloody floor.

"If they are dead," he began, "it had to be the Dark Presence." He rose to his feet. "Balance slays the demon…oh my god."

"What, you think this thing knew they knew how to kill it so it killed them first?" demanded Dean, outraged.

"It's plausible," the writer said. "It'll stop at nothing to stay in power. The Andersons wrote a song—this song, _Balance Slays the Demon—_probably because they _knew_ the darkness would come again. This song is the key to everything."

"In the dream, Zane said there had to be a balance," Sam said slowly. "Dean, you think this is what he meant?"

"I don't see how it could be anything else except for one huge coincidence," the elder Winchester answered. "Nothing is a coincidence, at least not in our experience." He turned off the record player and switched on the television. The news flashed across the screen, scenes of destruction and chaos panning out. It was a scene out of a Hollywood blockbuster disaster movie, but it was real. Some cities and countries had gone up in flames as the Taken quickly rose in numbers, killing everything and everyone in their path. Others were engulfed in darkness and shadows with no survivors, or had collapsed into the oceans. The world was falling apart, burning. It was only a matter of time before Bright Falls was entirely consumed in the Dark Presence's wrath. Dean stared at the screen in mute horror, swallowing the lump in his throat. Silence filled the room, the reporter's voiceover of what was happening the only thing breaking the stillness. Several minutes passed before Dean flipped the table with a sudden fury, roaring in anger. The table crashed downwards with a loud bang that echoed throughout the house. He grabbed the whiskey bottles one by one, chucking them at the walls. They shattered violently upon impact.

"Dean! DEAN!" Sam yelled.

"What, Sam?" Dean spat, whirling on his little brother. "It's pretty fucking obvious, isn't it? Everyone we care about is dead, not to mention those millions of innocent people out there!"

"Dean…," his brother began. "Dean, please. We still have a chance. We can still fight this! Listen to me! This isn't over!"

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT BULLSHIT ABOUT THE LIGHT AT THE END OF OUR TUNNEL!" shouted Dean. "THERE IS NOTHING FOR US, NOT FOR YOU, NOT FOR ME, NOT FOR ANYBODY!" He grabbed the record player and threw it against the wall. His breaths were becoming ragged, and he knew he was losing his shit. He was tired of keeping face for everyone, for Sam, for Kevin. "KEVIN IS DEAD. CHARLIE IS DEAD. GARTH IS DEAD. EVERYONE WE CARE ABOUT IS DEAD: MOM, JESS, DAD, ASH, PAM, ELLEN, JO, BOBBY, EVEN BOBBY, AND BENNY! EVERYONE IS FUCKING DEAD, SAMMY!" Sam's face fell as he realized why Dean was acting like this.

"Dean," he said softly. "We still have each other." His voice broke on his last word; both brothers were completely oblivious to Alan, Sarah and Barry's presence in the room. All that mattered to them right now was each other. "It's you and me against the world, remember? Saving people, hunting things, the family business."

"I-I never should have dragged you along with me from Stanford that night, Sammy," Dean confessed, hot tears sliding from his eyes. He dragged a hand across his face before continuing. "This…this life, you never wanted it! And now look where it's taken you, taken both of us! You're fucking dying and I can't do anything to stop it! I-I can't do this anymore, Sammy, I can't! I just—" He fell to his knees, sobbing brokenly. Sam knelt down by him and gathered him into his arms as he simply sobbed into his shoulder.

"Shhh, shhh, hey. Dean, it's going to be fine. I promise," he assured him desperately. "Dean, please. Calm down." He repeated that mantra over and over, soothing his brother and begging him to calm down, scarcely aware of his own tears, tears he was shedding for Dean. "I get it, man. I do, I really do. Sometimes, I feel like I'm barely keeping it together." He chuckled humorlessly and shook his head. For several long moments, he held Dean until his shaking subsided. He spared a glance towards the others. Sarah was looking onwards in concern, Barry in shock, and Alan in bewilderment. Dean pulled himself away from Sam, and the brothers rose to their feet.

"You okay, dude?" Barry asked the eldest Winchester. "Jesus Christ, you were scaring me there for a moment."

"Let's never mention this again," Dean said sarcastically, running a hand over his face. He ignored Sam's concerned gaze. There were more important things than his emotional state. All the tears in the world wouldn't bring back anyone, he knew that. Sometimes, the losses were overwhelming. _Don't fucking think about it, _he told himself.

"We should probably stay here for the night," Sarah suggested. "I'm exhausted, and I'm sure you guys are too."

"Oh yeah, sleep in the spot where the Andersons were potentially murdered. That sounds real smart," Alan remarked dryly. He turned away and headed upstairs, Barry following suit. Dean and Sam rested on the couches, Sarah lying down on the floor by them. The last thing they heard before sleep overcame them was the roar of the Dark Presence and the piercing, bloodcurdling screams of the townspeople.


	4. Dark Side of the Moon

It was going to be over soon, Zane knew. The Dark Presence was almost at its most powerful, and the world was almost entirely covered in darkness. His power was dwindling as the Dark Presence grew stronger. Fighting it while protecting Alan had taken its toll; he'd been imprisoned beneath Cauldron Lake for decades. He was fading away; he could feel it. Barbara, his Barbara, was gone. She was never coming back, never would be, and he'd realized his mistake in writing her back to life too late. Perhaps, if he had never listened to Dr. Hartman's counseling, none of this would be happening. The Dark Presence would still be sleeping in the Dark Place, and the world would not be consumed in darkness, death and destruction. Sam Winchester would never have been killed by Mr. Scratch. Alison Wake would never have been taken by the Dark Presence, and her husband would never have been imprisoned in the Dark Place in exchange for her freedom.

_There is nothing that could've happened to prevent Alan and Alison's arrival, _a voice in the back of Zane's whispered. _It's a never-ending cycle. Perhaps Sam and Dean Winchester will win this fight, perhaps not. The Dark Presence will rise again, even if they do conquer it. It's inevitable. _Zane felt the Dark Presence surrounding him, smothering him in its power. He knew he could no longer communicate with anyone in the outside world. The veil between worlds was thinning as the Dark Presence grew stronger and more powerful. Reality and dream were now blurred in the outside world; the power of the painting and Alan's manuscript was giving it a strong foothold and great power. Power that was only growing, with nothing to stop it. Every time the Dark Presence was put back to rest, it would find a way to regain power. Now, there was nothing that he could do to stop it. Sam and Dean Winchester were the world's only chance of salvation. If they couldn't put an end to this war, no one else would—and the Dark Presence was winning. Zane knew it was only a matter of time before he faded away completely.

_Barbara, I love you and I am so sorry. This is all my fault. _His Barbara would never forgive him if she was still alive. He knew she wouldn't, but none of it mattered anymore. She was gone, and his time was coming. And a small part of him was glad. _I was meant to die when I made my last dive. _The war was now in the hands of Sam and Dean Winchester. Only they could finish what he'd started all those years ago. The light dimmed, extinguished by the darkness, and everything went white.

* * *

The screams of the townspeople rang through Alan's ears. _It's getting bad out there, and it's only going to get worse. _He couldn't help but think of Dean's breakdown earlier that night. Millions of innocents were dying, and the Dark Presence had claimed the lives of the only friends he had left. _No wonder he snapped the way he did, _he thought to himself. He mentally kicked himself. There were much greater issues at hand than Dean's emotional state. The Dark Presence was now shifting its attention back to Bright Falls, and everything was at stake now. The town couldn't – wouldn't – survive the onslaught, unless the Dark Presence was put to rest, and Mr. Scratch was still out there. He'd kidnapped Dean and killed Sam. Who knew what he was doing now? He was the herald of darkness, the Dark Presence personified, and therefore he was dangerous. He was much more of a threat than the darkness itself, and that alone scared the hell out of Alan. He'd gone after Alice – there was a strong possibility that he would go after her again. She was his weak spot, and everyone knew it. The Dark Presence had gone after her and used her as leverage. She wasn't safe from the darkness. Nobody was.

The writer felt sleep sweep over him like a tidal wave, and the world descended into darkness. War had come. _Hell is empty, and all the devils are here, _he thought. Sleep took him, and for a moment, he thought he felt something in the room. A heavy, smothering presence was in the atmosphere, and he felt a surge of panic surge through him. The Dark Presence was in the house with him. He jolted upright, and scrambled to his feet.

Through the blackness, he thought he could make out a form standing before him. A human form, shrouded in the shadows. "Who's there?" he demanded, reaching for his revolver.

"Al…what're you so freaked about?" Barry asked groggily. "Fucking Christ, it's 1:00 in the morning, dude." He yawned. "There is nobody there. Go back to sleep."

And all hell broke loose. A deep tremor ran through the earth, and the Dark Presence roared, piercing the silence of the night. Barry screamed.

* * *

There was no time to think. Just act. The Dark Presence was inside the house, and Dean fully intended to get the hell out – with Sam and the others in tow. "Alan, Barry!" he shouted. Sarah bolted up the staircase; Sam and Dean followed suit. Dean tried opening the door. No luck. He threw himself against it once, twice, before finally kicking it open. The room was pitch black. No sign of Alan nor Barry.

"Shit," Sarah cursed.

"Sheriff, the Dark Presence is _here_. We need to fucking leave – now!" Dean reminded her. "Come on, we need to get going." Shadows were bleeding into the house relentlessly. Dean couldn't help but recall the attack on the sheriff station. This was completely different; the Dark Presence was at its peak of power now. Perhaps they had a chance, perhaps not. There was the sound of rabid growling and barking, and footsteps on the rooftop.

_Taken. _"Please tell me you guys are fully loaded," the eldest Winchester said to his brother and the sheriff. "It sounds like we have company." The trio rushed back downstairs just as a Taken raised its axe and swung it downwards at them. Taken flooded the house, and the world soon exploded into blood and warfare.

Dean narrowly dodged the death blow as Sam and Sarah blinded the Taken with their flashlights, firing at them simultaneously. The Taken soon burst into a shower of sparks before vanishing into nothingness. A Taken mutt threw itself at him, snarling and snapping and barking at him rabidly. He reached for the dagger in his pocket and stabbed it in the throat. The dog screamed in pain, a loud, keening cry. "Fucking – Taken – bitches!" he grunted. _I swear to god, they're worse than hellhounds. _Sam shined his flashlight on the mutt before shooting it thrice, and its body disappeared, just like the other Taken.

"Taken dogs? That's a new one," he remarked as he pulled his brother to his feet.

"Less talking, more shooting!" snapped Sheriff Breaker. Time seemed meaningless as the three of them combatted the influx of Taken. Over and over, they repeated the same dance of weakening the Taken with light before finishing them off with their firearms. It felt like hours had passed until the Taken stopped coming. "Everyone okay?" she asked.

Dean nodded. "Peachy," he said dryly. "I'm pretty sure one of those sons of bitches grazed me with an axe, but I'll live. I've had worse."

"I'm okay," Sam reported. "We need to track down Alan and Barry. The Dark Presence…it's after them. Hell, it's after all of us – but Alan is our only shot at ending this war for good." Sarah whipped out her cell phone and speed-dialed his number.

"You think calling him is going to help?" Dean queried.

"Maybe," she said curtly. She paused briefly. "Hello? Alan? Thank god, I'm so glad to hear your voice right now…don't worry, we're okay – just a bit shaken up. Where are you guys camped out right now? We need to regroup and figure out our next move…yes, I'm aware that the Dark Presence is after us, but we can't – we're stronger together as a group. This town has become a goddamned warzone, Alan." She shook her head vehemently. "Alan, I'm begging you – don't do anything stupid and reckless. Meet us at the lighthouse, okay? Okay. I'll see you when I see you. Bye." She cut the connection and pocketed her phone.

"They made it out?" Sam queried. "How?"

"I guess they went out the window or something – I don't know," said Dean. "What I do know is that this darkness, it's never going to stop going after us. Its beef isn't with you, Sarah. It's after me, Sam and Alan."

"What are you saying, Winchester?" Sheriff Breaker demanded. "That I should just high-tail it out of Bright Falls? I have a responsibility to protect the town!"

"How can you protect the town from something that is worldwide?" he challenged. "Sam and I, we barely managed to end the Apocalypse. The way things are right now…it's best if you went underground. Find any survivors and go underground until this is all over. Alan, Sam and I will figure something out and put an end to this."

"You can't be serious," she said angrily. "You can't expect me to just stand by and let this town burn!"

"I'm sorry," Sam interjected, "but my brother's right. Sarah, I get where you're coming from, I do, but if there is just a snowball's chance that there might be survivors… Look, this town needs you – but we have to handle this alone. There have been more than enough casualties. This is for the best." Sarah was visibly hurt and furious, and Dean felt a stab of sympathy for her. He had nothing against her, nor did Sam, but he felt that the town's survivors needed her more than they did.

"And what if there aren't any survivors?" Sarah countered. "What do I do then?"

"Go underground," Dean said. "It's the safest place you – anyone, really – can be until this all blows over. We're going to be fine, I swear."

"You'd better be," she answered. "Good luck. Kick this thing in the ass. Don't miss." She departed from the brothers solemnly.

"You think we did the right thing, Dean?" asked Sam once she was out of sight. Dean shifted his attention to his brother. The younger Winchester's face was a mask of doubt.

"I do, Sammy," he said. "Come on, we'd better get moving."


	5. This Is War

Sarah was the sheriff. She had a duty to Bright Falls, and she intended to do everything in her power to keep any surviving citizens safe from the Dark Presence's onslaught. _That's what Sam and Dean wanted me to do. Protect any survivors and go into hiding. _She drew her revolver and flashlight, silently cursing herself for leaving her car at the power plant. Despite everything, she couldn't help but feel a pang of anger towards the Winchester brothers. They had good intentions, she couldn't deny that, but it was like they both had a hero complex – they believed that it was their task and theirs alone to bring an end to the Dark Presence's assault. Perhaps they could conquer the Dark Presence, perhaps not. She didn't know. All she knew was that it was her task to find sanctuary for any remaining citizens of the town. _And if nobody survived, just go underground. _Like Cynthia Weaver.

_Cynthia Weaver. _It dawned on her, then. Perhaps the survivors had already managed to find refuge. Cynthia had done everything in her power to prepare the town for the war between the forces of light and darkness. It was a slim chance, but it was a chance. It was hope. She knew where she had to go now.

* * *

"Holy mother of fuck," Barry gasped. "What the fuck was that back at the farm?" Alan stole a glance back towards his friend. He was visibly terrified and shaken from the attack; he couldn't blame him one bit. But they were at war now; there was no time for post-traumatic counseling. All that mattered was fighting the Dark Presence and getting to the lighthouse before it was too late.

"The Dark Presence," said Alan. "I've never seen it this powerful before."

"Yes, well, the world is coming to its end even as we speak! Jesus Christ, I thought last year was bad – but that pales in comparison to – to this!" Barry took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He was on the verge of a panic attack, and the last thing he wanted was to be a burden to his friend with his magnitude of issues. There were much bigger concerns at hand. "Dude, I have a really bad feeling about all of this."

"No fucking shit, Sherlock!" the writer snapped. "This is war, Barry! _War._" Barry raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Whoa, dude, calm down," he said. "I get it, I do. Look, I'm scared. I'm scared as hell about all of this, man. No need to jump all over me. Jesus Christ." Alan sighed harshly in frustration. He loved his friend, he did, but his nervous ramblings were doing nothing to help their current situation. His nerves were haywire from fear and apprehension, and all he wanted was to reach the safe haven of the lighthouse. They weren't safe anywhere anymore. Nobody was. Thousands – if not millions – of lives had been lost in the Dark Presence's wrath. _And once it hits Bright Falls, the grand finale will start. _He desperately prayed Alice was okay, but a part of him knew he was running on blind hope. The world had been consumed by darkness; if there were survivors, they would be small in numbers.

_Maybe Alice did make it, _a voice whispered. _She survived the Dark Place. _Alan suppressed a scream of rage. Just like Dean, he was reaching his breaking point. He had endured the psychological torture of the dark prison and was clinging to the remnants of sanity with everything he had left in him. He would bare those mental scars for the rest of his life, he knew. One never fought a war without coming back with scars. How the hell did Sam and Dean do it? They'd been fighting for their entire lives, and lost everyone they cared about in the process. Their friends Garth and Charlie were one of the millions of casualties of the Dark Presence's fury, and their deaths had pushed Dean to the brink. Who knew how Sam was coping? He –

A searing, fiery pain cut through his train of thought. His vision went white, and he collapsed to his knees, his hands at his temples as he cried out in agony. He distantly heard Barry's panicked voice as he begged him to tell him what was wrong, but it was like yelling in a tunnel – nothing but echoes. A brief image flashed before his eyes: Agent Nightingale, veiled in darkness. His eyes were black as midnight. "_You cannot fight me forever, boy,_" he intoned, but it was not his voice. It was the voice of a demon. It was the Dark Presence. "_I am more powerful than the cosmos. There is no running from me. I will find you, and you will write for me._"

"_GO TO HELL_!" shrieked Alan through clenched teeth. _Oh my god, it hurts – make this fucking pain GO AWAY! _

The Dark Presence smiled, and the pain intensified. "_You are one naughty, naughty little boy. I did promise you to give you your wife back, but you were foolish. You wrote Thomas Zane into the story._" He screamed in agony; he swore he felt tears streaming from his eyes. "_And you escaped. Clever, clever. Thomas Zane is dead now._"

"Alan, Alan, buddy, what the fuck is going on?" Barry shouted, shaking his shoulders violently. "Come on, talk to me!"

"I SWEAR TO GOD, I WILL FUCKING END YOU!" the writer bawled. The entity possessing Nightingale let out a feral snarl, and a powerful tremor ran through the ground. A howl pierced the silence of the night. He barely registered that it'd been the Dark Presence.

"_I will rip you apart. Piece by piece by piece_. _Once this vessel expires, perhaps I'll take another. Your lovely wife, perhaps." _

Alan's scream was out of rage this time. "DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH MY WIFE AGAIN! I SWEAR TO GOD—"

"_The similarities between you and Tom are astounding. Cease your crusade or Bright Falls will be obliterated._" The pain suddenly ceased, and Alan fell into Barry's arms, trembling uncontrollably.

"What. The. Hell. Was. That?" Barry demanded. Alan took several deep breaths, rubbing his throbbing temples.

"The Dark Presence," he said shakily. "It's pissed…and it gave me an ultimatum. Stop fighting, or this town will be razed."

"Oh my god. Why…why the hell would this thing give you an ultimatum?"

"I don't know," answered Alan, "but I know it's pissed." He shook his head. "I'm not stepping down from this war, Barry. I can't."

"I know, buddy," said Barry. "I know." He pulled Alan to his feet, and their eyes met. "You think maybe Dean and Sam got the same memo?"

The writer shrugged. "I don't know." He sighed. "Mr. Scratch – he's still out there somewhere and the Dark Presence is at its strongest. It scares the hell out of me – if Alice _is _still alive, and Mr. Scratch is – "

"Dude, you can't worry about her right now. Even if she did survive – "

"Are you trying to imply that my wife may or may not be dead?"

"Al – "

"Don't – don't talk to me about Alice," he snapped. He was about to say more when his cell phone went off. Looking at the caller ID, he was surprised to see that it was Sheriff Breaker. "Sarah, where are you?"

"Well, hello to you too, Mr. Wake," she remarked dryly. "I'm in the pipes right now."

"Are Sam and Dean with you?"

"No. they thought it was best that I go out and find any survivors and go underground," she explained. "They're on their way to the lighthouse even as we speak."

"Okay, that's good to hear, considering."

"Considering…what?"

"The Dark Presence gave me an ultimatum: back down from this war or this town will be turned to ash."

"…You – don't tell me you aren't actually considering doing that, are you?" she said cautiously.

"No, no, no, hell no!" he reassured her. "I can't back down, Sarah, even if I wanted to. We both know that no matter what I do – what we do – this town is going to burn."

"Keep fighting the good fight," Sarah said. "I hate not being able to help you and the Winchesters, but we got to do what we have to. Keep me posted, okay?"

"I will."

"Good luck."

* * *

_Cease your crusade or Bright Falls will be obliterated. _The words rang throughout Sam's mind, clear as a bell. Dean met his eyes knowingly; he too had received the message. The Dark Presence was furious, and there was not a doubt in Sam's mind that it would go through with its threat. It was inevitable.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked him. "Jesus Christ, that was…wow."

Sam nodded. "I've had worse," he said. His temples were throbbing so much he thought his head was going to split in two, as a result of the Dark Presence's psychological torture. It paled in comparison to the torment he'd endured in Hell. _If it ever came down to it, I'd take being tortured by the Dark Presence than going back to the Pit, _he mused sourly. Hell had mangled and twisted and sliced and carved his soul until he thought there would be nothing left in him that would be human, Lucifer and Michael had brutalized him so. "What about you?"

"Peachy," his brother said. "Sam, we…we can't let this thing kill any more people. I'm sorry – I want to ice this son of a bitch just as much as you, but –"

"Is this about Charlie and Garth?" Sam pressed. "Dude, I know. I know it hurts like hell, but we can't give in to what it wants. We can't let it win."

"Everyone we've ever cared about has died, Sam! Yellow-Eyes killed Mom – killed Dad, even Jess! Jo and Ellen blew up, Dick Roman fucking killed Bobby…I killed Benny to bring you back to me, Kevin may or may not be dead, and Charlie and Garth were killed by this darkness! I fucking hate it, man, I do, but even if we do manage to shut the gates of Hell for good, what else is there for me?" Dean's voice was trembling and slowly beginning to rise. "I mean, you – you would finally quit hunting and get married and have kids, the life you wanted before I dragged you into this shithole that is called our lives!"

"Dean…" _He is right, you know, _a voice in the back of his mind whispered. _Everyone you love has been taken from you in one way or another at some point. The best thing you can do is do what the Dark Presence wants, and save as many lives as possible. _"Dean, _we can't do this._ If we do this, the Dark Presence wins and the world will be consumed by darkness."

"More than it already has?" countered Dean.

"You are my brother; we're in this together. You and me against the world, remember? You said it yourself – !"

"Don't quote me to me."

"Quit on me and I will kick your ass for a week once this shit blows over. I can't do this alone. Neither can you, and we both know it." _Since when did I become my brother? _Sam thought to himself. "I never thought I'd actually say this, but bury all the shit you're feeling right now, and fight. I would be lying if I told you that I didn't want to avenge our friends, however the hell that may happen." He was rambling, saying anything that would make his brother want to fight this war like hell. He too was overwhelmed by the grief of everyone he'd lost, and it was a struggle everyday not to let that anguish suffocate him. For Dean, he had to be strong, and Dean thought it was his job to be strong for Sam, and now he was crumbling. "We have work to do, a war to fight. Are you with me?"


	6. Politics and Revelations

Mr. Scratch was fucking furious. Alan Wake was still alive _– he had survived escaping the Dark Place after all_, Scratch thought sourly to himself – and it was impossible to get a hold of his whereabouts. Nobody would tell him. _Not even these poor sons of bitches, _he mused. He twirled his bloody knife in his hand and smiled. The chick tied to her chair was trembling violently; not that he could blame her. He had just cut the throat of her lover after torturing him for almost five hours. What was her name? Samantha, Sarah? He didn't care. All he wanted was to find Alan Wake and kill him.

Scratch approached her and removed the gag in her mouth. "I'm going to ask you one more fucking time, you little whore. Where the hell is Alan Wake?"

"I don't know, okay?!" she sobbed. "I don't know, I swear to god! PLEASE, JUST LET ME GO! PLEASE! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?"

Scratch stroked her cheek with the edge of his knife, just barely cutting her skin. "Because, love, it's fun. And besides, I have a score to settle with the guy. The torturing and killing part is fun – all I need is the guy's location and I'll end all of this. It'll be a quick and painless death, you won't feel a thing. You'd be lucky, really. Your boyfriend got the short end of the stick." Samantha shook her head.

"Kill me! Just end it for me now!" she cried. "I DON'T KNOW WHERE ALAN WAKE IS! LAST I HEARD THE GUY WAS DEAD! JUST KILL ME!"

"As you wish."

* * *

Sarah didn't know how long it'd been since she and the Winchesters had parted ways. It felt as if it had ben hours. The pipes were endless; she didn't know where she was going. If nobody had survived, then she was down here for nothing. _Maybe I should go back and try to regroup with the others. _The beam of light from her flashlight flickered, and she swore to herself. Quickly, she replaced her battery before forging onwards into the darkness.

It was then that she heard it. The sound of children crying, the crackling of a fire burning. The buzz of adults conferencing with one another. Survivors. "Hello?" she called out. She drew closer, following the sound. "Is anyone there?" A light flashed suddenly, blinding her.

"Who's asking?"

"Sheriff Breaker," reported Sarah. "And you?" The light was lowered, allowing her to see the face of whom she was speaking to. A young woman no younger than twenty years-old stood before her. Her green eyes were bloodshot – from lack of sleep, Sarah presumed – and her long, jet black hair was coated with blood.

"Lena. Lena Evans," she answered. "It's good to see you, Sheriff. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up."

"Keep what up, Lena?" Sarah pressed. "What…what the hell has been going on down here? What have you been doing?" Lena brandished a pistol and loaded it.

"Preparing for war," she said. "Those axe murderers out there have been doubling in numbers with every passing minute, and they killed my husband and son." She shook her head. "They were bludgeoned to death right in front of me. My son was no more than an infant."

"I'm sorry for your losses." Sarah couldn't believe what she was hearing. Lena was leading a resistance against the Dark Presence. _She can't do this – it's a suicide mission. _"How long have you been down here?"

"From the moment we saw on the news what was happening all over the world," she explained. "Adam insisted that we leave town, but it was too late by the time we left the house. Those serial killers bashed his skull in right in front of me, and our son died instantly since Adam…" She trailed off, and a tear slipped down her cheek. "I've been leading the remnants of the town citizens for the past few days now, and let me tell you, town politics is such a fucking bitch."

"Are you a politician, Lena?"

"No, I'm not. My father is – was – a politician and let's just say I've learned from the man. The people want to stay underground until whatever the fuck is going on out there ends, but me? I – "

"You're shitting me," Sarah burst out angrily. "Are you trying to get this town killed? You can't lead them into war with the – with those serial killers! It's suicide!"

"Yeah, well, that's what they've been telling me," Lena said coldly. "You see, Sheriff Breaker, I'm a cop. Well, I was a cop. I'm just doing what's best for Bright Falls."

Sarah's temper flared. "I'm the sheriff of this town, Mrs. Evans. I'm here, and I call the shots now. And I say no to leading this town into battle like the Middle Ages." The Dark Presence was at its peak of its power. If Lena carried out her plans, it would end bloody, and she couldn't allow that to happen. She met her cold, unflinching stare.

"If you do so much as try to bring me down, _I will ruin you_," hissed Lena, and she stormed off. Sarah couldn't ignore the knot forming in her stomach. Lena was an ex-cop with a politician's mind: a dangerous combination of authority and ruthlessness. If what she was saying was true, then the survivors were relying on her to keep them safe from the darkness that was out there. _She has to be removed from the political equation before shit hits the proverbial fan. Oh God, I hope the others are okay. _Sarah was glad not all of Bright Falls had been killed during the initial onslaught, yet she knew the Dark Presence would strike again. She just prayed Dean, Sam and Alan would make it.

* * *

"We have work to do, a war to fight," said Sam hotly. "Are you with me?" Dean met his brother's eyes. Sam was right, and they both knew it. He couldn't afford to give in to his grief; there was too much at stake. If he gave up now, it would all end. The Dark Presence would win, and despite everything that'd happened, he couldn't surrender. He wouldn't. Garth and Charlie – _and quite possibly Kevin, _a voice in the back of his mind said – were gone, but Sam was still here with him and in the end, that was what mattered most. His baby brother, his only lifeline, his soul-mate in every possible way, the one person he would always fight for. He would tear apart Heaven and Hell if it meant saving him, and anyone who would dare to interfere would pay with their lives.

"You know it, Sam," Dean said. "Come on. We need to get going." Up ahead, they could see the lighthouse beckoning them. They were getting close now. Dean guessed it would take them less than an hour until they were there. He cursed himself for leaving the Impala at the Anderson farm. Time was running short, and they couldn't afford any delays. The Dark Presence howled suddenly, and trees fell like dead flies. A tremor shook the earth with so much force the brothers almost lost their footing.

"You think Alan and Barry are already there?" the younger Winchester asked.

"I don't know, Sam. I hope so," he said. "I can't afford to think like that, dude." _I can't afford to consider the possibility that they too were killed in action_. The words hung in the air, unsaid. And they were true. Dean was the big brother; he needed to be strong for Sam. The deaths of Charlie and Garth had pushed him to his breaking point after suffering the losses of everyone he and his brother had cared about.

_ Get your fucking shit together, Dean, _he reprimanded himself. _Stow your emotional bullshit! You – _The tune of _Smoke on the Water _sliced through his thoughts, and he whipped out his cell phone. "Sheriff Breaker?"

"You were right, Dean," said Sarah. "There are survivors." Dean took a deep breath of relief. Bright Falls hadn't been entirely consumed by darkness after all.

"That's good to hear, Sheriff," he said. Sam raised his eyebrows. _What's going on? _he mouthed to him.

_Survivors, _Dean mouthed back. "What do you plan on doing? Is everyone okay down there?"

"It depends on your definition of _okay, _Dean," she said. "I'm afraid things are bad down here as well. An ex-cop is preparing to lead the town into battle against the Dark Presence, and I can't allow that. It's suicide – no, it's genocide. And here's the catch: her father is politician, and she probably knows a thing or two about how to gain – and lose – power."

"There's a reason hunters don't get involved in politics, Sheriff," Dean commented dryly. "You have a plan?"

"I'll figure something out. What about you and your brother?"

"We're almost at the lighthouse. Have you had any contact with Dan Brown and his agent?" he countered.

"They're already there, Dean. Alan texted me a while ago to let me know," Sheriff Breaker answered. "Good luck out there."

"You too, Sheriff." He killed the connection. "Well, Sammy. Looks like we're a bit late to the party. Barry and Alan are at the lighthouse."

"That's good to hear," Sam said. Dean nodded in agreement, and they hiked in silence. The night was quiet – too quiet. No ramblings of the Taken nor footsteps could be heard behind them. The calm was eerie, deadly even. Dean brandished his revolvers, the hair on the back of his neck standing up.

_It looks as if Bright Falls has been saved as best for last. This shit isn't going to end well, _he thought grimly to himself.


	7. The End Is The Beginning

Barry glanced towards Alan as they sat against the walls of the lighthouse. He hadn't spoken a word to him since their arrival. "Hey, Al?"

"What is it?" Alan turned his gaze towards him. His eyes were bloodshot from sleep deprivation and he was bruised and battered, cuts and bruises covering his body. He looked as if he were a soldier returning from the war. And he was; he was a soldier who had come home only to be pulled back into the conflict.

"How are you holding up?" he asked. Alan chuckled, tearing his eyes from him. It was then that Barry saw something wet on his friend's face, and he felt his heart break for him. The fight against the Dark Presence was taking its toll – physically, mentally, and emotionally.

"We can't win, Barry," said Alan bitterly. "Don't you get it?" His voice cracked. "I've been fucking fighting like hell, and look what's happened. Millions of people are dead, and my wife just might be amongst them."

"Al…"

"I've been hanging on to my sanity by a motherfucking thread!" he snapped. "I know we have to keep fighting this war, but a part of me just wants to lay down and fucking die! Hell, I'm surprised I haven't put a bullet in my brain at this point!"

"Dude, stop – stop talking like this!" Barry shouted. "You're scaring the shit out of me! Look, I get what you're going through. I don't even want to fathom what happened when you were trapped beneath Cauldron Lake, but you fucking can't let this shit eat you up!" Alan shook his head and quickly wiped away his tears. _It's like we're all losing hope. Dean lost his shit back at the farm – Sam and Sheriff Breaker and I are the only ones keeping it together. _He too was scared, but he didn't want to admit it to the others. He was no fighter; he couldn't fire a gun to save his life. If anything, he was just a literary agent from the Big Apple with only Alan Wake's name as a run for his money. He didn't have a great purpose in life, like Alan did. Alan was destined to fight the darkness and save the world. After the war ended – if it ended – Barry planned to leave Bright Falls and never look back. Just as Alice had done. He couldn't do this anymore. Going to Bright Falls the first time last year was a huge mistake on its own; staying in town was only proving to be another.

"Okay. I'm sorry," the writer said. "Jesus Christ." He sighed. "Sam and Dean should be here soon." Barry nodded in agreement.

"Yeah," he concurred. "It's getting bad out there. They're going to make it, I'm sure."

There was no response from Alan.

* * *

The atmosphere was heavy, and Dean couldn't ignore the feeling of foreboding that threatened to suffocate him. Sam was tense, just waiting for a swarm of Taken to attack. Bright Falls was unrecognizable, and both brothers were awaiting the Dark Presence's final onslaught on the town. Sam show no signs of further illness, but Dean wasn't going to hold his breath. Zane's healing had only prolonged his symptoms; it was only a matter of time before he started coughing up blood again.

The lighthouse was just up ahead. They didn't have that much farther to hike. The brothers picked up their paces, and when they reached the road, that was when it happened. The air went still, and a twister as black as hell descended from the heavens. _It's over, _the Dark Presence intoned. _You cannot win against me. _The hell-storm swept forward towards the brothers, sweeping up everything in sight. Abandoned cars, gasoline trucks, boulders. It moved faster than any other storm man had seen_. _

"SAM! GO, GO, GO!" Dean shouted, shoving his brother ahead of him. "GO NOW!" Sam burst into a sprint, Dean following close behind him. The darkness howled, shaking the ground. Sam stumbled suddenly, and Dean rushed back to him. He pulled him to his feet, the adrenaline pumping through his veins like wildfire.

"SAM! DEAN! COME ON!" Dean looked up ahead to see Alan and Barry, waiting for them inside the lighthouse. "HURRY THE FUCK UP!" It seemed the entire world had gone into slow motion. The Dark Presence was only mere feet behind them, a black storm coming for them. Sam was ahead of him by a few feet, and they were getting close now. _If I don't make it, for the love of God let my little brother live! _Dean prayed.

His prayers turned out to be needless as they threw themselves into the safety of the lighthouse, and Barry slammed the door behind them, a haunted expression on his face. "You guys okay?" he asked.

"We've…had worse," Sam said breathlessly. Barry glanced towards the eldest Winchester, and Dean nodded in agreement.

"We're fine," he confirmed. _No, we're not. The world has been consumed by darkness. _They couldn't venture outside, not now. The screams of the unfortunate who hadn't found safety pierced the night, and filled everyone's mind. A deep, heavy silence charged the atmosphere with uneasiness, and not a word was spoken.

The Dark Presence had razed the world. Just as it had promised.

**FIN. **

* * *

It has all come down to this. Stay tuned for the epic conclusion of the _Bound by Darkness, Freed by Light _trilogy:_ This Is War._


End file.
